"I want to make poems / that look into the earth and the heavens / and see the unseeable. I want them to honor / both the heart of faith, and the light of the world; / the gladness that says, without any words, everything" ("Everything," page 4).

"[I]f the heart has devoted itself to love, there is / not a single inch of emptiness. Gladness gleams / all the way to the grave" ("Honey Locust," page 18).

"What I know / I could put into a pack / as if it were bread and cheese, and carry it / on one shoulder, / important and honorable, but so small!" ("What Is There Beyond Knowing," page 20).